


Becoming Thundershield

by Grania



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, Pacific Rim (2013)
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-05-06
Updated: 2014-05-08
Packaged: 2018-01-23 19:18:31
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 4,888
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1576589
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Grania/pseuds/Grania
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Another part of the thundershield exchange 2014, for mixkstyle.<br/>The prompt was: Pacific Rim AU with Steve and Thor as co-pilots.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Introduction

Phil Coulson had been banging his head on the desk for the last two hours, ever since he had come back from his late lunch. He was trying to make the person at the other end of the line understand his anguish, but it did not work.

“You cannot...as I tried to explain, it is not possible...You cannot just decide this on your own…”

“...”

“What I want to say is that we need more time!”

“...”

“Yes, we are that slow. We’re not talking about cars here, these are jaegers, highly complex machines...and don’t even get me started on the pilots!”

“...”

“In my opinion this is the dumbest thing that has ever come…”

“...”

“I’m not saying that the members of the council are dumb, just that this is not something that diplomats can decide at a table, and then tell me and my people to do it. And anyway, I’m not even your biggest problem here...no, because as soon as Fury hears what you decided...”

“...”

“HE WHAT?”

 

Unbeknownst to him, five time zones to the east, and thus too early in the morning for her liking, Sif Jonsson was having a similar conversation, with equal results.

“I can tell you right now that this will never work…”

“...”

“No, not because we can’t build it...why do people like you always think that the jaeger is the most difficult thing to build?”

“...”

“People like diplomats and politicians, that’s what I’m saying.”

“...”

“No, the impossible part is the decision that each country should assign one pilot...You can't…”

“...”

“You can't choose the pilots according to their merits, you have to make sure they’re compatible.”

“...”

“You either are compatible, or you aren’t. There’s no case where they’ve tried to just name two random dudes, and…”

“...”

“HE CHOSE WHO?”

 

Phil and Sif met, for the first time in their lives, when they set up a connection for a video conference the next day, shortly before dinner at Phil’s end, and at almost midnight at Sif’s.

“It’s...can you see me? It’s a bit wobbly...there...no, it’s gone”, Sif commented, and moved the small camera on the conference table in Oslo.

“I can hear you fine, but the picture is off”, Phil answered in Washington D.C., and as his hands rose to the camera, they covered the whole screen at the other end of the world.

Eventually the connection stood, though the two generals were still missing, and an awkward silence stretched between two continents.

“So...great to meet you”, Sif eventually managed. “I’ve heard a lot about your work. I’m sorry about what happened to Howling Commando.”

Phil smiled thinly over the opened file in front of him. “And I’m sorry about Asgard’s Wrath. Let’s hope that the new project will have a better ending.”

Sif barely managed to reign in her sneer. “Yeah. Let’s hope for the best.”

Phil’s smile grew a bit wider. “I hope they won’t argue too much”, he sighed, and leafed through the file.

Sif shrugged. “What’s there to argue? Station Anchorage, because it’s slightly closer to the rim than Bergen, head mechanics from us, at least when Hogun and Volstagg are finished in Wladiwostok, mission control probably either you or me, and I guess we’ll ask Jane Foster and Erik Selvig too. I’m sure they’d love to work together on a jaeger.”

Phil was still smiling, and wisely ignored the minefield that had opened before them. “I see that we agree. Thank you for this meeting.”

Sif laughed. “I wished. But we’ll still need many...” She hesitated for a second. “I’m still trying to change the general’s mind...about our pilot…but you didn’t hear that from me!”

He pushed the file away, looked directly at the camera, and thus right into Sif’s eyes. Something hard coiled in Sif when they both understood simultaneously what the other meant.

“Oh…”, she gasped.

“You nominated...the survivor from the spring disaster?”, Phil managed.

“And you’re sending the remaining half of Howling Commando!”

“Well, I certainly don’t, but my boss will!”, Phil exclaimed.

“That’s what I mean!”, Sif shrieked.

They stared at each other in shock for a moment, until something outside of the camera’s reach in Oslo approached with heavy footsteps, and shortly thereafter the same thing happened in Washington D.C.


	2. Thor 1

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Another part of the thundershield exchange 2014, for mixkstyle.  
> The prompt was: Pacific Rim AU with Steve and Thor as co-pilots.

The weather turned once they reached Alaska. For the last hour in the air, Erik examined the inside of half a dozen paper bags, and during the landing even Sif paled, and dug her nails in the armrests. 

Thor felt fine.

He carried Erik’s baggage on top of his through customs, because Erik was occupied enough with dragging his own body around, and they followed Sif to the exit.  
He lost his eyesight the moment they stepped through the gate into the arrival hall. Apparently every Alaskan in possession of a camera had been waiting for them, and they were all furiously demonstrating their flashes.  
They did not care for Erik or Sif, and both of them were pushed to the back, leaving Thor alone, with his hands full of suitcases and bags.  
He smiled.

“Mister Odinson, how’s the lung?”

“Mister Odinson, welcome to Alaska. Do you think you are ready for a new co-pilot?”

“No questions today, folks!”, a voice suddenly shouted over everyone else’s. “You can come to the press conference tomorrow. Now get lost!”

A rather inconspicuous man in a black suit made his way through the journalists.  
“Phil Coulson”, he said to Thor, but they did not shake hands, for obvious reasons. “It’s an honour to meet you, Rittmester Odinson.”

“All mine, sir.”

He greeted Sif and Erik, then guided them to the park deck. Two security guards kept the journalists from following them.

“How was the flight?”, he asked, while Thor and Sif piled the baggage into the car.

“Nothing to complain about”, Thor answered. 

Erik coughed.

Luckily Coulson deemed it polite enough, and spent the entirety of the drive talking to Sif.  
Even from this far inland they could see the steel beams of the wall that should protect the coast one day.  
Despite its size it looked laughably tiny compared to the coastline, and the vast sea stretching outside the bay.  
A handful of people were awaiting them at the Shatterdome, and took their baggage away before the car had barely stopped.  
“Doctor Selvig, your goddaughter and her team are waiting for you in the lab”, Coulson said, and Erik left with one of the other men. 

Coulson looked apologetic when he turned to Sif and Thor. “I know you’ve just flown for twelve hours, but both our governments want a first test result before tomorrow’s press conference.”

Sif nodded gloomily.

Apparently Thor had finally lost control over his face, because she stepped to him, and softly touched his arm.  
“Thor...it’s just a first test. It won’t mean anything. Tomorrow, when the conference is over, and everyone’s gone, it’ll really start, and you’ll have all the time you need.”

He turned away from both of them. The gates of the Shatterdome were closed at the moment. The few doors that let the workers pass looked like mouseholes.  
“I want to see the jaeger.”

Coulson and Sif quietly adjusted their answers behind his back.

“Sure”, he eventually said. “Follow me!”

They entered through one of the mouseholes, and approached the new jaeger from the front.  
It was placed deep inside the Shatterdome, surrounded by high scaffolds. Hundreds of workers were tinkering on it from all sides, though a lot of them were lumped around the chest and the right shoulder of the jaeger.

“The engineers call it mark-4.5”, Coulson said with a faint smile. “We insisted on a hybrid engine once they announced you and the Captain as pilots...it runs digitally, but if push comes to shove we can activate the diesel engines that will keep you running for at least four hours.”

Thor followed one of the workers on his way along the top of the conn pod. It stood high over the shoulders, daringly. American.  
“Couldn’t you do it the other way around?”

Again they had a silent discussion behind his back.

“There’s no difference in the handling”, Sif then said. “It’ll feel just like Asgard’s Wrath.”

Coulson pointed to the right shoulder. “A last-minute enhancement for you. Originally we wanted a plasma caster and rocket launchers. But we took out the casters, and now we’re reinforcing the shoulders, so you could potentially wield your…” Sif frantically shook her head, and Coulson did not say it. “...a weapon. Of course we’re keeping the rockets. Nothing beats rockets.”

They slowly made their way to the jaeger. Thor could not keep his head from shaking whenever he moved his eyes, and saw a new detail.

Both Sif and Coulson tensed more with every step.

[“It’s just Howling Commando all over again”], he muttered in Bokmål, to no one in particular. Coulson only understood the name of the jaeger, and shot him a hard glance. And then Sif was at his side again. This time he felt like shaking her warm hand off.  
Of course he did not.

[“The body work, maybe. But on the inside it’s an entirely new jaeger. Hogun knows you after all.”]

[“He’s standing on twigs!”], he said, a bit louder this time. Coulson frowned at Sif. 

[“How are we supposed to stand on these things?”], he exclaimed. [“One shove by a cat two and we’re on the back like a bug!”]

Sif’s nails dug in his flesh. He breathed in sharp. 

“Sorry.”

They were still far enough from the crowd, and though some of the workers were observing them from far above, they were too far away to have heard anything. 

“Let’s do the test and call it a day”, Sif suggested. 

“Wonderful idea”, Coulson agreed, and turned left, where a gate lead to the labs in the adjacent buildings.  
There was a stiff draft in the hallway.  
Coulson lead them to the next building, and entered through a closed door without knocking.

“Silence, gremlins, the masters are here!”, he barked into the room. 

Most of the people in the room jumped a foot in the air, except for a tiny woman in the door to the simulator. In her hand she carried a laptop, and seemed to do a last run before the first test.

“Don’t talk to me, Coulson!”, she said, with her eyes still fixed on the screen. “How dare you bring me Erik like this? He’s barely alive!”

“It’s better now!”, Erik yelled from inside the simulator. 

Sif winked at Thor. They had heard a lot about Jane, Erik’s goddaughter, and the maddest Kaiju-groupie besides Tony Stark.  
She finally realised that Coulson was not alone, and put the computer down on the next table.

“It’s such an honour to meet you, Rittmester”, she said, and shook his hand. She barely reached his chest. Every visible part of the skin on her arms was covered in colourful tattoos, and every last one of them was a kaiju. He recognized the beast that was twisted around her wrist, Scissor Face, the second to last one he had killed together with Loki.

“And you, Miss Foster.”

She smiled cheerfully. “In my opinion it’s a waste of time, after twelve hours of flight, and without a previous meeting…”

“Thank you, Miss Foster”, Coulson snarled through gritted teeth.

“...but please, get comfortable in the simulator! I promise, Erik did not puke all over it.”

She lightly touched his arm, and tore him to the cabin. Sif barely had enough time to get his jacket off him.

Coulson seemed very tired all of a sudden. “Where’s the captain? I told you to get…”

“Calm down, Phil. I sent my assistant.”

“Oh, dear lord…”, he began, but was interrupted when the door was pushed in his back.

“Sorry”, another tiny woman said, though she was not. She stalked past Sif, and plopped down at a computer.

“Don’t you dare watch another episode unless you’ve finished the lists!”, Jane ordered, which caused the other woman to hit her head on the tabletop. They distracted the rest of the crowd from the other thing that happened at the same moment.

“Come on!”, she whined, and shuffled through the pile of papers next to the computer without looking up.

Sif looked as pale as back in the airplane, though not because of the banter between the women.  
Thor wondered how often she had thought about that moment in the last few weeks, and what exactly she was expecting. 

He felt fine. 

They had already met before, once in Lima, and once in Dakar. His hair used to be longer, combed in a ridiculous side parting, but other than that he was still all the same, tall, upright, clad in combat uniform as if he was expecting a battle at any moment, and above all friendly smiling.  
He hoped he was giving off the same impression. Except for the hair.

“Captain”, he said.

They shook hands. 

“It’s been too long, Rittmester”, the captain answered. 

In his back, Sif started to breathe again.  
Jane ushered them both inside the simulator, and together with Erik wired them up to the machine, and to each other. 

“It’s been years since I’ve last been here”, the captain remarked. He wriggled in the seat, though Thor knew from experience that it was impossible to find a comfortable position, what with the spinal clamp inserted right into the back of it. 

“Just like in the academy”, Thor quipped.

The captain chuckled. “Home, sweet home.”

“Okay, don’t move!”, Jane ordered, and closed the door, leaving them alone in the cabin.

“How was the flight?”

He shrugged. It was too much for the wired helmet, and it slipped. “Good”, he answered, while he tried to shove it up his head again, hoping that Jane would not see it on her camera.

The silence stretched, and still the machine was not starting up.

“Speaking of academy...I’ve heard you’re teaching”, he tried after a few painful seconds.

The captain nodded, and managed to slip his helmet too. “Damn...I mean, yes. But just temporarily. I’ve been looking for other...possibilities. It’s definitely nothing I’d want to do for…”

“Okay, guys, can you hear me?”

The screen in front of them lit up, and the well-known tingle around his temples and neck indicated that they were live, and ready to connect. 

“Loud and clear”, the captain answered.

He tried to steady his breathing, and from the corner of his eyes he could see that the captain was doing the same thing. 

“Very well, then. Are you ready? Shaking hands in three, two, one, go!”

The jolt was weaker than in a jaeger, but he could feel it, and then the flow of the pons through his head, that welcome presence he had missed for so long. He recognized a shock of black hair in the distance, and his breath hitched.  
His fingers curled around the armrest, and slowly he managed to turn away from the dark figure. 

He was alone. 

He turned around once more, and this time not even the person in the distance was there anymore. This had never happened before, not even during his very first tries at the academy.

Even though the cabin was made of solid steel, he could still hear the hasty paces and frantic movements outside.

In the end it was the captain who asked: “Where are you?”

“I...I don’t know.”  
He took a few steps forward, though he could not tell whether he was moving. He never had had problems with the surrounding before. Whenever he had drifted, he had always instinctively found the right place, next to the shock of black hair, and there had been nothing else for him.  
He held his breath again when his thought trailed back to him. The armrests were creaking under the weight he put on them.

“We’re...we’re too far away”, the captain panted after a while. 

That much Thor had gathered. “Can you...we have to let go”, he managed, and closed his eyes.  
He forced his hands to unclamp from the armrest, and his fingers to straighten, and then, finally, he recognized a shadow to his left. 

“Okay, I think I see you…”, Steve began.

Thor hummed his agreement. It was getting hot in the cabin, and sweat started to collect in the small of his back.  
The shadow seemed quite close, and yet too distant to recognize anything, as if he was looking at an old recording.  
He took another two steps to the left. For a second he could see the captain, like through a thick fog, but he had no time to look at him.

“Ready to kick ass, punk? I tell you, my fingers are itching!”

He instantly remembered that cheerful voice. It belonged to the second half of Howling Commando, the more charming one, to be honest. He was shorter than all of them, and dressed in the armor. Loki rolled his eyes, and grinned at Thor.

[“Where were you? We’re going to be late for training..”]

“No! No!”, someone urged from far away.

Thor turned around. He laughed. [It said two o’clock. I still have four minutes.]”

“Coulson said it’s a cat 3. He calls it Axl Rose. I hate it when he names them before we have a chance to see them.” The captain’s partner tugged at his arm. “Come on, let’s go!”

“Get off!”, the captain roared, and then he was gone, and only Loki and the other remained.

Thor frowned, and opened his mouth.  
And then the flow was ripped out of his brain.  
With a groan he fell back in his chair, and the helmet slipped off his head again, this time for good.  
Loki was still there with him, with his smirk and his eyeroll, and he was still pointing at his watch. 

In the other chair, the captain wordlessly removed his helmet, and staggered out of the cabin. 

Thor was still writhing in his chair, tearing on his hair, and trying to hit Loki out of his mind, when he heard the door outside fall shut.

“Well, shit”, Jane’’s assistant muttered.


	3. Steve 1

Coulson had tried to convince him of a shared dinner with the Europeans, but for once he had refused, thus he only met them again shortly before the press conference.  
Coulson had presented him the lies he was supposed to tell. He knew from television that Thor always was the life of a press conference, and that he loved to spout them.

Steve still had trouble to grasp how easily that guy had followed the RABIT.  
He may have lost it just as fast as Thor, but at least he had fought. 

General Fury was pacing up and down the room, reading in the file R&D had cobbled together last night after their failed attempt. Coulson was patiently waiting on a chair. Steve tried to catch a glimpse of the sea, but today it was difficult, because it had the same colour as the sky.  
Not one word was uttered when the Europeans entered, only nods, and uncomfortable glances.

The journalists were eagerly awaiting them when they finally climbed the stage in the press room, the photographers in the front, the writers in the middle, and the cameramen in the very back.

"Welcome to this press conference", Fury began. 

Steve zoned out after that, and only came back when it was time to say his line, about how much he was looking forward to this new challenge. Coulson smiled so encouragingly Steve feared he might grab his hand under the table and squeeze.

He startled when the crowd laughed about something Thor had said.

"Of course I would never dare it", he continued. "Captain Rogers is without exaggeration the best pilot in the world, and it is a great honour that I was chosen to work with him..."

Coulson smiled again, but Thor's handler shifted nervously. Thor did not seem finished.

"I know it was not I that made Asgard's Wrath so successful, but I hope I will be...how do you say...verdig? That I will...work hard."

“Worthy”, Coulson whispered to himself.

And suddenly Steve felt like a jackass.

Fury took over again from there without giving the crowd time to process Thor’s words, and opened the round for questions. 

“We were promised a report about the first trials in the simulator”, someone in the back of the room yelled.

Fury took a deep breath.

It said everything one needed to know about the project that the Europeans were exercising on their own in the afternoon.  
He was still in the mess when he overheard it at another table.  
The TV in the corner was screening a Golden Girls marathon instead of the usual news channel. He probably would not find any newspaper tomorrow, even if he wanted.  
A gaggle of scientists and mechanics sat at the table closest to the door. They heatedly discussed the last minute changes to the arm, and especially the mechanics looked exhausted and overworked.  
He left when their eyes flickered to him once too often, and with something between anger and humiliation coiling in his stomach he hurried to the gym. 

Thor was sparring with his handler when Steve walked in. He pressed against the wall, and tried to observe them as long as they did not see him.  
She was an exceptional fighter, took as good as she gave, and yet it was clear that Thor held back with every move he made.  
His long hair was tied to a knot on the back of his head, though a few strands had gotten loose over the course of the fight.  
The handler saw him first, and promptly was too late to block Thor’s last swing with the stick.  
She coiled on the ground, but he laughed, and said something in Norwegian that sounded like a question.  
She swung her stick at him, and he laughed again.

“You couldn’t tire me if you tried all day long”, she answered in English, and with that wiped the grin off his face.

He whirled around, and finally saw Steve standing next to the door.  
Something in his eyes reminded him of the others in the mess, which was almost rude, considering they were both in the same position. He pushed away from the wall, and walked down to the ring.  
The handler smiled at him, and pointed the stick at his face. He grabbed it, and pulled her up.

“Have fun”, she chirped, picked up her shoes, and left.

Thor shouted something at her when she was halfway out of the door.  
Her reaction took Steve by surprise, and apparently Thor too. With two steps she was back in the room, and threw a string of angry gibberish at Thor’s head that tumbled so fast out of her mouth Steve wondered how her tongue did not accidentally knot together. At first Thor glared at her, but gradually his shoulders and his head slumped, until he was drawing circles with the stick on the ground.

“I’m sorry”, she eventually said to Steve, all smiles again, then left for good.

Steve blinked a few times. Thor was still staring holes into the ground.  
“No wonder Coulson likes her”, he eventually muttered.

Thor laughed, and with that kept the awkwardness at bay.  
“We made a deal that we wouldn’t speak Bokmål in the presence of others…”

He looked at Steve, then raised his stick. It did not need more.

Steve kicked off his shoes and socks, and stepped on the mat. 

They paced around each other in circles, hunched over, each waiting for the other.  
Thor made the first attack, after less than fifteen seconds, just as Steve had expected. He took a step to the left, and the stick hit thin air. He only had a split second to enjoy Thor’s surprise, then the stick was already on its way to his shin. He jumped in the air, aimed for Thor’s clavicle, but his flight was prolonged by a strong arm that swung him through the air. He rolled off over his shoulder, and sprang back to his feet just in time to avoid another swing, and with this they were at the beginning again.  
They were both grinning from ear to ear. 

“Not bad”, Thor said, and whisked a strand of hair out of his face.

“Same”, Steve answered, and lunged at him.

He forgot how long they fought, only that they exchanged countless hits and near-hits. A few times the door opened, though no one ever came in, and Steve did not mention it. For both of them it was the first time in years that neither of them had to weaken the blows, and hold back their strength, but also the first in a long time that they did not have to prove anything to anyone, and he did not want to stop.

“Can I ask you something?”, Steve panted after a while, and dodged Thor’s stick that came down on his hip. “I’ve wanted to know that for a long time.”

“Sure.”

He jumped forwards, and Thor made a roll backwards out of the way.

“Why Rittmester?”

Thor laughed, lost momentum, and gave Steve enough time to hit his shin. Any other sparring partner would have rolled on the floor crying, but he only laughed harder.

“Why not?”, he asked, and attacked him from the front, so viciously Steve feared the sticks might break.

“Well, it’s not exactly a PPDC rank.”

“Norway is not exactly close to the pacific.”

Thor crouched down after his last strike, Steve’s stick flew over his head, and the next thing he knew Thor’s was trying to cut through his ribcage. He groaned, and scurried away.

“It’s a joke, basically”, Thor explained. “When they built the first jaeger in...what...2020, I think, after you guys let one too many pass through the East Siberian Sea, and Baffin Bay, and Cape Hoorn it was not part of the army, but it also did not belong to the navy. So when they needed ranks and stuff, they just took old ones from the cavalry, back when they still fought on horseback.”

Steve laughed, so hard that he dropped his arms and had to stand up straight. He was on his back not one second later, with Thor’s stick at his throat.

“You’re the cavalry?”, he wheezed through his laughter.

“The Queen’s Royal Cavalry”, Thor answered, not without pride, and held out a hand for Steve. 

It was the first time their touch lingered. Steve could feel the muscles working under Thor’s skin as he was pulled off the floor.

“Though it’s actually the equivalent of captain in the army”, he confessed.

They both knew without words that the fight was over. Every muscle in Steve ached, and when he inspected the stick he realised that it was splintered at both ends.

“So we’re equals?”

Thor was tying his shoes, and looked up. “You thought we were not?”

Steve shrugged. “I guess I’m just always wary. Some take things like this very seriously. I once heard the voice of my mother, God rest her soul, because I addressed a pilot as ‘captain’, and not ‘ranger’.”

Thor smirked. “Barton and Romanov?”

He pretended to shudder. 

Thor held the door open for him. He was practically radiating heat through his thin exercise clothes.

The clock on the wall in the hallway told them that they had fought for two hours without break. It was early evening, and the mechanics were finishing for the day.  
They walked in silence, and pretended not to feel the looks of the others as they passed. 

“Tomorrow in the simulator?”, Steve asked when they reached the rooms of the Europeans.

Thor nodded. “I promise I will be better.”

Steve wanted to protest, at least for politeness’ sake, but he dropped it with a shrug when he saw Thor’s weary smile.

“I’ll be better too”, he said instead, and with a curt nod walked away.

That night was the first time since Hong Kong that he did not dream.

 

Sweat was dripping down his back, and made the spinal clamp even more uncomfortable than it already was.  
He knew, had known, that it needed more than one afternoon of exercise to get closer to each other, and yet Steve felt disappointed.  
Thor was only a blurry shadow to his right, though at least they were all alone, and they both were mentally present, but it was less than he had wished for, and nothing compared to how it used to be with Bucky. 

They were not even in each other’s headspace! 

There was nothing around them, only empty matter, because they were both too afraid to open the gates to their minds. 

To his right, Thor was squirming in his chair, and probably close to breaking the armrests. Steve was angry again, and his unrest did not help his concentration. 

Thor exhaled slowly, and suddenly he stood in front of Steve, clear and sharp.

And then his brother was there again.

“No!”, Thor yelled. “Go away! No! Fu...stop it! Stop it! Jane? Jane!”

With a sigh Steve fell back in the chair as the flow left his head.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The queen = today's princess Ingrid Alexandra...European monarchies are sort of my guilty pleasure.


End file.
